


loss

by icemakestars



Series: ~✧An Ever-Fixed Mark✧~ [4]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Minor Character Death, Vomit Mention, blood mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 08:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16720149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icemakestars/pseuds/icemakestars
Summary: Nothing can fix Mirajane's broken heart, but Erza wants to be there for her anyway.





	loss

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Writing Erzajane angst? It's more likely than you'd think. 
> 
> In this, Erza has had feelings for Mirajane for years, and then Lisanna dies and she knows that she has to be there for Mira

Everything burned. Erza’s lungs were cinders in her chest, her legs about ready to give up, and yet still she pushed on, harder and faster, until she reached the cottage in the woods. She had only been there a number of times in the past, and normally for a fight. Still, there was no time to dwell on the past, not when the present was crumbling and the future was incomprehensible. 

Without knocking or waiting for any response, Erza slams open the door. Her eyes were wide, chest heaving. Mirajane is startled by her presence, but cannot find any words to greet the red head.

“Mira, I just heard...”

She does not apologise, or offer condolences. Mirajane is crying to hard for that, is already broken, and words won’t fix her. Erza sinks to the ground, folds the older girl into her arms. 

To Erza, the guild was her family. It was all she had, and she had opened her heart to them as much as she would allow herself to. But the bond that Mirajane had with her siblings was different, more visceral. Elfman had never known a day without Mirajane, nor had Lisanna ever been apart from either of her siblings. Until now. 

Watching someone cry so hard their throat closes up, their body convulses and their stomachs heave, is a painful, pitiful experience. Erza’s shaking hands try to hold Mirajane together, but to no avail. She was gone, lost with her sister, and Erza had no idea how to reach her. 

“She’s - fuck. Gone.” 

It was fragmented, hiccoughed, more a release of thought than a statement or a sentence. 

Erza soothes kisses into Mirajane’s hair, and then realises that the white is matted with red. 

She had not bathed since Lisanna’s death. 

“Come on, Mira.” 

Hooking her hands underneath Mirajane, Erza gets them both to stand. She has to support nearly all of Mirajane’s weight, but it’s comforting to know that she’s helping, at least, in any way that she can. 

The stool Erza finds is broken, and too low down, but it’s all she has and Mirajane does not seem to have noticed their change in location. Although Erza is reluctant to leave her, she knows that it’s necessary, and she finds the bathroom. Mirajane’s floor is stained with blood and vomit, the whole room tainted with a putrid musk. But Erza cleans it until her hands are raw, runs a bath filled with soap and warmth, and then guides Mirajane to it. She’s shivering before Erza has removed her clothes. 

There’s no embarrassment in this, and there shouldn’t be; although Erza thinks that Mirajane is beautiful, has always thought that, there’s no room in her mind for such thoughts, not on a day like this. Not right now. Mirajane is bruised and bloody, but the wounds are all surface level, superficial. They’re not what was worrying the red head. 

Mirajane finds the strength to lower herself into the water, and then curls her knees to chest and hugs herself tight. Erza gives her that moment to herself, slipping out of the room and boiling water for after. When she returns, Mira’s tears have stopped, but they have left her with nothing. The hollow look on Mirajane’s expressionless features is someone worse, more haunting, and Erza is glad that to wash her hair she has to sit behind Mirajane, and she does just that, until the other girl is clean, cleansed. Ready to face the world. 

Erza hands Mirajane some clean clothes, gathers up the dirty items to wash them back at her own apartment, not expecting Mirajane to have to deal with such trivia. And when she slips a warm drink into Mirajane’s hands, it’s like a rainbow in the shadows, and the speck of light in Mira’s eyes is inviting, is exactly what Erza loves and remembers. But then it’s gone, and Erza does not allow herself to dwell; sometimes when life hands you nothing but battles, you have to take the little victories. 

It isn’t long after that Mirajane succumbs to sleep, her emotions overwhelming her and forcing her to rest. Once Erza has tidied up, she rests on the floor next to Mirajane’s head, not wanting to disturb the fitful dreams that are evident on Mira’s screwed-up face. Still, it’s the most peaceful that Erza has seen her look since she arrived, and sleep can heal all wounds, given time. 

And Erza had time, had waited for Mirajane for years. She could wait a little longer, would do whatever it took to see Mirajane smile again. It was a journey that Mirajane would have to travel after the tragedy of Lisanna’s death, and Erza would be there when she woke up, when she took a deep breath and allowed herself that first, quivering step. 


End file.
